THE THORN OF ANXIETY By Marion Smith

I enjoy puttering in the yard, so clipping the rose bushes was enjoyable. I picked up the clippings, discarded them and removed my “yard” clothes and shoes.

A problem happened a few days later as I was puttering in the yard barefooted. I stepped into the rose garden to pick up a few dead clippings I had missed and I felt the sting of the thorn even as it pushed through the bottom of my foot. Limping away, I assumed it would work itself out. No such luck.

By that evening the spot was very sore and red, and I could see a small black dot (thorn) embedded in the sole of my foot. “Time to get the needle out”, I thought. I prodded and picked, only pushing it deeper into my foot.” Ouch! That really hurts,” I thought, as I now could bear no weight upon my heel. Something so small… causing so much pain. The pain was personified with each step I took. I actually had to limp around the rest of the day. I tried several other remedies to rid myself of the painful thorn which had invaded my body, and, finally it worked itself out.

I have also had a thorn of anxiety in my life. Have you? Something unwanted invades your life and…boom!....the pain begins. Self help methods didn’t remove the thorn of anxiety. Reading the Bible didn’t help, either. (sorry to say) Listening to praise music, or singing praise choruses weren’t working either. Prayers of friends were appreciated, but didn’t seem to cure my pain. Meditating on a particular scripture was beneficial, but the thorn of anxiety still remained. I was limping around in my daily existence, feeling the pain of the thorn of anxiety. I knew what I had to do, and finally- once and for all- I gave my thorn of anxiety to God. I asked for His peace to fill me and to realize- once again- He was, and IS , in control.

Jesus told us - “Be anxious for nothing”. In this life we are hit with circumstances from right and left that can cause us anxiety- mild to severe. No matter the size, the cause, the circumstance, the bleak outlook or the weight we feel on our shoulders,we HAVE to “give it to God” (problem) and allow Him to take care of it.

Amen? Amen.

BRING THOSE BABIES TO CHURCH Author Unknown

My heart goes out to the parents of small children. I know first hand the kind of problems they face. Training up a toddler in the way he should go is a constant job, a continuous battle, seven-day-a-week task, not to mention an awesome responsibility.

After six days of their whining chorus at home and three hours of embarrassment while shopping, the last thing some young mothers want to face is an hour of agony and humiliation at church. Many young mothers have asked herself, “Why do I keep bringing them to church?” As she enters the auditorium she utters a silent prayer that the kids will be good and the sermon short. The service begins. While mother is picking up toys, drying eyes, wiping noses, swatting, scolding, trying to sing, listen, and pray, the toddler is pouring juice on her dress. To the toddler, church is an exciting adventure. Songbooks are a challenge to take, stuffed toys make great missiles to launch over four or five rows, and the collection plate would make a great hat. Young parents take heart! Let me assure you of this:

1. Your children do not disturb others nearly as much as you think they do.

2. If people without children are determined to sit at the back of the church, then they deserve any distraction they get.

3. Most people really do understand your plight and remember back to the days when their children were infants and toddlers.

4. Remember that you are both wanted and needed in the worship service.

5. Have faith that the hand, which now hurls crayons, will one day spread the seeds of the Kingdom.

THE PAINTING Author Unknown

A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art.

They had everything in their collection, from Picasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire the great works of art.

When the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.

About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands.

He said, "Sir, you don't know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly. He often talked about you, and your love for art."

The young man held out this package. "I know this isn't much. I'm not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this."

The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture.

"Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It's a gift."

The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected.

The man died a few months later. There was to be a great auction of his paintings. Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection.

On the platform sat the painting of the son.

The auctioneer pounded his gavel. "We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid for this picture?"

There was silence.

Then a voice in the back of the room shouted, "We want to see the famous paintings. Skip this one."

But the auctioneer persisted. "Will somebody bid for this painting. Who will start the bidding? $100, $200?"

Another voice angrily. "We didn't come to see this painting. We came to see the Van Goghs, the Rembrandts. Get on with the real bids!"

But still the auctioneer continued. "The son! The son! Who'll take the son?"

Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room. It was the longtime gardener of the man and his son. "I'll give $10 for the painting." Being a poor man, it was all he could afford.

"We have $10, who will bid $20?"

"Give it to him for $10. Let's see the masters."

"$10 is the bid, won't someone bid $20?"

The crowd was becoming angry. They didn't want the picture of the son. They wanted the more worthy investments for their collections.

The auctioneer pounded the gavel. "Going once, twice, SOLD for $10!"

A man sitting on the second row shouted, "Now let's get on with the collection!"

The auctioneer laid down his gavel. "I'm sorry, the auction is over."

"What about the paintings?"

"I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will. I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the paintings. The man who took the son gets everything!"

God gave His son 2,000 years ago to die on the cross. Much like the auctioneer, His message today is: "The son, the son, who'll take the son?"

Because, you see, whoever takes the Son gets everything.

WHEREVER WE ARE By Sally I. Kennedy

You will show me the path of life; in Your presence is fullness of joy, at Your right hand there are pleasures forevermore. Psalm 16:11

The night was still. Not a breath of air stirring. Just a few chirpy insects awake.

A crescent moon played peekaboo behind milky clouds, pale and fluorescent. Lightning flashed in the distance; a rapid succession of heavenly electricity, making the murky skies seem mystical and magical.

“How incredibly, breathtakingly beautiful!”, I thought. “How dramatic. How magnificent!”.

I’d just gotten back from a long awaited trip. I experienced such majestic beauty in the mountains. It was amazing, God’s handiwork in such awesome ways.

When I arrived home, I was struck by how truly beautiful it was outside, right there behind my house that evening. Once again I was overwhelmed with the grandeur of God.

I’ve said it before, there is beauty ‘in our own back yards’. Wherever we are, there the Lord is. And in the presence of the Lord is fullness of joy, beauty, and peace.

If we can’t see anything around us, right where we are, God is still there. His presence is awesome and filled with glory.

Open my eyes, Lord, that I might see, your beauty and wonder all around me, wherever I am. In Jesus’ name!


Sally I. Kennedy, ©2008
Irish Thursdays Weekly Devotionals,
http://www.sallyikennedy.com

THE WAY OUT By Sally I. Kennedy

Enter through the narrow gate…wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it…small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it. Matthew 7:13-14

Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path. Psalm 119:105

The way in was a piece of cake. Go over the small bridge, follow one trail, then another where it forked off.

We sort of wandered and just kept going; it was interesting. Pretty soon we were at a place, on the mountain, we'd never come to before. Ooh, the waterfall! This was great.

Took awhile for me to even think about leaving. It was fun, it was exciting! But as I tired, and got thirsty, I was ready to get out of there. Shadows were longer. It began to feel as if a storm was gathering. I sure didn't want to get caught in a thunder and lightning downpour way out there.

Yup, sticky and sweaty, ready to get back to the parking lot to the car, grab a bottle of water. Hmm, was it this fork we took? No, didn't think so. Did not look familiar at all.

One turn, another turn. Oh gosh, where was that trail??! I was wishing we'd done a `Hansel and Gretel' thing, and strewn breadcrumbs on our way in. But then, the mountain jays and chipmunks would probably have made off with them by now.

Eventually, the path narrowed. Oh yes, there it was! That little bridge leading out. Still there.

Happy ending to story. It made me think about how easy it is to find my way into things (situations, relationships, etc), and sometime how not so easy to find my way out. I believe, the Lord is the answer to finding the Way out.

That is good news.